Films like The World of the Dead or O Mundo Dos Mortos remind us that not every movie plays by the usual rules and that’s okay. Some expect storytelling, with plots, emotional characters, and conflicts that get resolved. If that’s what you’re looking for, director Pedro Tavares’ film is not for you. There are no familiar story arcs, no dramatic twists, and the performances are calm, theatrical like right out of Jean Genet or Sartre, restrained, and distant. But that’s the point.
Like Koyaanisqatsi or Baraka, this film doesn’t try to “tell a story” In the traditional sense. It doesn’t explain itself or guide the viewer. Instead, it asks you to look, listen, and reflect. “It is up to the viewer to take for herself what Koyaanisqatsi means.” The same could be said of The World of the Dead — some may find it boring, others may find it deeply moving. It all depends on what you bring to the experience.
Tavares isn’t interested in answers or entertainment. This work is slow, quiet, and stripped down to the essentials. The camera hardly moves. Characters speak in calm, thoughtful tones. The visuals are stark and minimal. It’s a work of radical simplicity because it chooses not to be. The film doesn’t cater to mainstream tastes. Instead, it challenges the viewer to meet it on its own terms.
Throughout the film, Black bodies stand or sit still in square-shaped frames. They speak words that are both religious and philosophical. Lines like “Anxiety is the foundation of society” and “I pray that my fractures do not make me sick. Judaic-Christian imagery is everywhere, including blood, which is shown only as a symbol of sacrifice. The characters wear plain black or white clothes and rarely touch one another again, similar to Jean Genet’s theatrical staging choices in some productions. Emotions are controlled, never exaggerated.
“Are they in the real world, or in some kind of purgatory?”
Sacred music plays in the background. The way people speak feels more like chanting or scripture reading than a conversation. In this way, the film shares something with Baraka, which also uses images and sounds rather than plot or dialogue to explore the human condition. Like Baraka, The World of the Dead moves from beauty to suffering, from nature to destruction.
Visually, the film has a dreamlike, soft-focus look. Unlike many modern digital films that are sharp and filled with CGI, this one looks cloudy. That brings to mind some of the early trick photography of George Méliès and the Lumière Brothers with images through fog or memory. The forest landscapes and faded lighting make it hard to place the characters in any particular time or place. Are they in the real world, or in some kind of purgatory? It’s up to you to decide.
The people in the film don’t come across as individuals. They have no backstories, no professions, no personal drama. Instead, they become ideas — messengers, symbols. Their shared clothing unites them as human beings rather than separates them by gender, class, or identity. While many modern films try to highlight unique experiences, Tavares looks for what connects us all.
The dialogue, too, is simple and evenly delivered. These aren’t trained actors performing dramatic monologues. They speak plainly, like ordinary people reflecting out loud. Theater lovers might enjoy the poetic lines, but the filmmaker avoids theatrical flair.
In the end, The World of the Dead is not meant to entertain. It’s meant to provoke thought, like a visual poem, a text such as Rimbaud or Baudelaire, or a quiet protest. Whether you love it or not may depend on your willingness to sit still, listen, and feel the silence.
"…It doesn’t explain itself or guide the viewer. Instead, it asks you to look, listen, and reflect"
